Lovely Memories
by tophis1
Summary: For reasons unknown, Erik is now an eight year old with no memory of the Opera house. Who better to babysit him while they figure this out than Raoul and Christine? dumb plot, cute story. R/C ErikRaoul friendship later
1. Waking

Mornings were usually the worst. The smell of dusty old hay, the feel of sleeping on a hard wooden floor, and all that sunlight drifting in through the tent entrance that somehow managed to always get in his eyes.

But…it didn't smell like hay. It smelled like… well honestly Erik had never smelled anything like it. Floral. Perfume. A light dose of perfume, that's it.

And it didn't feel like he'd slept on a wooden floor at all. There was a warm, amazingly soft blanket around him. He doubted his captor would ever allow that.

And no sunlight. It was unlikely he'd awoken before dawn, so why was it so dark?

Even after Erik opened his eyes it was still dark. A kind of darkness you could feel around you; wrapped over you like a protective wing. Though it was heavy and made him feel a bit claustrophobic, it felt...nice.

But still there was the matter of where he was. There were no bars or tent in front of him. He was in a large bed with silky sheets. When he finally stumbled around and found a candle and a match to light it, he was even more amazed.

At first he couldn't believe it. It must have been a dream. The room was huge, with clothes and sheets of paper everywhere, scattered around the floor and covering a roll top writing desk against the wall. Many sculptures and drawings were laying around as well; some only half completed. And many were of a beautiful girl with curly hair.

"Who's room is this?" Erik wondered to himself, holding up a rather large shirt he had just stepped on. It would swallow him if he were to wear it. Whoever lived here was obviously a grown man.

Erik looked down at himself. He was wearing a large shirt just like the one in his hands. It hung off one of his shoulders and came to his knees, falling over him like a sack. He almost laughed at how absurd he must look, then froze.

He was in another mans home, wearing another mans shirt, and he didn't even know how he got here.

Whoever this man was didn't care to be here when he awoke and didn't lock the door, so Erik decided to explore this new place.

It was still unnaturally dark. The entire 'house' seemed to be shrouded in it. Still, Erik didn't feel like he should worry.

After walking down a long hallway he came upon another bedroom of sorts. There were tons of candles and a swan bed with red sheets in the middle, but still no people. When he walked over to the doorway (which seemed to be carved out of the wall), he saw a large, glassy lake, stopping at a platform off in the distance that held another desk, a pipe organ, and many, many candles.

Erik marveled at all these wonderful things. After two years in a cage he'd forgotten what magnificent things lie in the real world. Everything he saw was beautiful.

Whoever lived here really liked music too.

"Monsieur." Erik nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of someones voice. Without really thinking about it, he dove behind on of the many curtains draping the stone walls and didn't dare to see who was coming. Though the voice sounded feminine he didn't want to give them a chance. He'd learned women were just as cruel as men a long time ago.

There were footsteps. Someone was definitely searching for him. Or the man who lived here. Did she know he was here? Would she be angry to find him in his house?

Would she send him back to the circus?

"Erik, you've been gone for a week." He could almost feel her frustration. "You can't live down here forever."

Did she mean he couldn't stay? He didn't want to go back to that cage. Not after discovering this amazing home.

Before he could stop himself, Erik let a muffled cry escape him. He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, making a few tears slip.

Without warning the curtain hiding him was torn to the side, revealing him to a tall, skinny old woman with a sharp no-nonsense face.

She didn't seem to understand what she was seeing. Then after a quick look at the right side of his face she started to get it. "Erik."

When she looked at his face, Erik couldn't help but cover it with his hand and turn away. Despite her calm voice, he still refused to look at her. She would surely send him back now. Now that she saw he was a monster.

He didn't expect a cold hand to stroke back his hair. "Don't be scared, Erik."

"H-how do you know me?" He stuttered, trying to stop crying.

She smiled warmly and helped him stand. "We will discuss things later. Right now…" She looked down at the oversized shirt billowing around his small frame. "We need to get you proper clothes."

He sat in the room he'd awoken in, trying desperately not to hyperventilate. All these new things were starting to frighten him.

It didn't take long for the kind lady -Madame Giry- to return, holding more fitting clothes that were the same style as the ones littering the floor. A white, puffy sleeved shirt, a black vest, and black pants.

"How old are you?" She asked as she helped him pull on the shirt.

Erik tugged it down with a small blush. He wasn't used to people, especially women, touching him or helping him. "Eight?"

She nodded, but he could see she was thinking everything through. He just wanted to know what she planned to do with him. After a moment she looked at the bedside table where a white mask lay. "They will all be much too big for you." She mumbled, then stood. "And you should not stay down here. It s too dangerous if you can't remember anything."

Remember anything? What was he supposed to remember? What was so dangerous about such a beautiful place?

"You cannot stay in the opera house." She nodded to herself. "You will have to stay with someone." She visibly brightened at her own thoughts. "I know just the person."

All the confusion and lack of answers was starting to wear Erik down. He was so nervous and confused that he couldn't even admire all the things around him anymore. Madame Giry was always talking to him (more to herself) about some kind of danger if he stayed and what he needed to know, but so far none of his questions had been answered.

And he was too afraid to ask. He'd learned not to speak without some form of permission.

They sat overlooking the lake for what felt like hours. Who knows. It may have been. He couldn't really tell since they seemed to be underground.

Mostly he sat still, sneaking glances at the creepy old woman, then looking out over the lake. This all seemed so surreal, but terrifying all the same.

"We should get going." The woman stood and held out her hand for Erik to take. He did so hesitantly, afraid of the quick motion. She noticed, but kept it firm. "My carriage is outside. I will take you to where you will be staying until we get this all figured out."

He didn't say anything or resist her tugging him through a hidden hallway out into the bleak beginnings of sunlight. It was almost dawn. Before he could fret about someone seeing his face, Giry already had him safely seated in a carriage that started moving as soon as they were inside.

Erik sat, staring at his hands and shaking with fear. None of this made sense. He was too confused to even know what he should be questioning.

In a matter of minutes they stopped and Erik was quickly pulled out of the carriage into the sunlight yet again. He didn't bother covering his face. Not only was he in too much shock to react, they were in a rather secluded area. A large mansion loomed above them, screaming of the owners wealth and taste.

Giry knocked on the door, telling the maid who answered it that she needed to speak with the masters of the house. The young miss scurried back inside and returned with a tall blonde man with wispy locks tied back in a girlish ponytail and green overcoat standing next to a young woman with a mass of curly brown hair pulled back to reveal a lovely face. They both looked at Madame Giry, then down at Erik.

The man recoiled in a fairly non-graceful way, sneering at the boy, though Erik didn't know what he'd done wrong. Of course, that was the reaction he usually got and he was surprised it didn't bother him as much as it should. The woman, on the other hand just looked shocked and saddened by what she saw. Not a reaction he'd gotten before but something told him it wasn't because of his face. She didn't look at him as if this was the first time. Had they known each other? Was she part of what he needed to remember?

"Monsieur and Madame De Chagney, I have a favor to ask of you."

They sat in the library on beautiful, plush couches. Erik was too jittery and nervous to sit still, so he took his time roaming the titles of the books that lined the walls. The man never took his eyes off him and it made Erik even more cautious.

"What happened?" The woman whispered to Giry in hopes that Erik wouldn't hear her. That was nearly impossible, since the room was so quiet and everyone was waiting to hear what Giry had to say.

"Im not sure. He's been missing for a week and now I find him like this." She flicked her gaze over to the boy. "He has no memory of any of us or the opera house."

"Does he remember _anything_?" The man asked. His tone was questioning and curious, but also hostile. Erik decided he really didn't like this man.

Giry shook her head. "Only up to the age of eight, which is where he's at now." She sighed. "It is all very strange. But until we find out what happened and can get him back to normal he needs a place to stay."

"He can't stay here." The man stated, leaving no room for questions. The woman lightly took hold of his arm and tried to soothe him, but he shook his head. "I don't care if he can't remember what he is. That doesn't change him."

Erik, who had previously been frozen to the spot by his tone, suddenly sagged and lightly touched the scarred side of his face. How could he ever forget what he was?

"He cannot stay in the opera house. Someone will find him." Giry never changed her own tone, but she did seem a bit more confident. "No one else knows of him. Please, Raoul. Show him mercy."

"After all the things he's done?" Raoul asked in disbelief. "All the people he has ki-"

"There is nowhere else for him." Giry stated. "Unless you wish for him to return to the only life he remembers."

Eriks eyes widened. It was up to this man to keep him away from the circus? He couldn't help but to look over at him fearfully. What had he done to deserve this mans anger and resentment? What justification could he find to force him into that kind of life?

Raoul was about to restate that he didn't care, but he made the mistake of looking over at the boy. He looked so terrified. In that moment all his anger melted and he felt a deep pang of guilt, though he wasn't sure why.

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just until we find somewhere else for him. I don't want him here for too long." The woman whispered her thanks and Giry even seemed relieved at this answer.

She stood and faced Erik, who was now a bit less frightened. "Erik, these two will be taking care of you for a while. Do what they tell you to and be respectful of their home."

Erik nodded silently. He'd do anything if it meant staying out of the circus.

Giry left, leaving Erik with the two people who were to be his new caretakers. He couldn't hold their gaze but they had no trouble staring him down. Only when he started shifting uncomfortably did the woman notice that she was staring.

"Oh um, I suppose we should find you a room." She brushed off her skirt and motioned for him to follow. As he was walking past the man, he stood, making Erik jump and retreat a few steps away. The man seemed taken back by this, then just shook his head and glared.

The house was beautiful, his room was large and comfortable and everything smelled clean. But it was nothing like the home he'd awoken in and for that he hated it.

Not that he wasn't grateful, but he wanted to go back and explore that wonderful place. Maybe even live there.

He didn't want to leave his room. Everything was so confusing outside and this room felt almost protective.

But apparently it didn't work like that. Not if he wanted to eat at least.

"It's alright, Erik." Christine cooed, trying to coax him out. "We aren't going to hurt you."

After a few moments of patient silence Erik slowly came out, trying to keep the scarred side of his face out of her line of vision.

"There is nothing to be afraid of." She murmured, crouching down to be eye level. To Eriks shock and amazement, she gently turned his head to look at her. She didn't even look at his deformed face; just at his eyes. "You don't remember me, but please know that I would never hurt you."

He nodded his head, but he didn't understand. Everyone wanted to hurt him. That's all anyone ever did.

They entered the dining hall where Raoul was waiting. As soon as he caught his eye, Raoul glared and pointedly stared at the wall straight ahead, dutifully ignoring him.

The meal was quiet and dull. Everyone kept to themselves, though Raoul sent a few sharp looks at Erik. The hostility clung to the air like a parasite.

After the meal, Erik was taken into a lounge with a beautiful piano. He sat in front of it uncomfortably, not knowing what to do with it.

"Whats the last thing you remember?" Christine asked, leaning behind him to adjust a sheet of music for him to see.

Erik looked down at the keys. "The circus was near Paris. They said we'd stay for a couple of weeks until the 'money-bags' lost interest." He tensed slightly before looking up at her. "What's a money-bag?"

Christine was confused by this memory. What was this talk of a circus? "Nothing for you to be concerned about." Erik visibly deflated at the lack of understanding. "Well, do you remember anything about music?"

Erik would have liked to tell her he didn't know what he was supposed to remember, but decided against it and merely shook his head. She sighed and told him the basics, starting with what each note meant and where they were on the keyboard.

"Madame De Chagney, your husband wishes to speak with you." A maid, who kept her eyes focused on Erik as if he would attack her, said as she entered the room. Christine thanked her and hurriedly left Erik with the piano.

"What is it?" Christine sounded worried, but she was actually mildly annoyed at the interruption.

Raoul was sitting calmly on his favorite couch, drinking a glass of something sweet while holding a book about the mountains of Greece in his other hand. He looked up with a dry glare; all hints of calm tranquility gone. "I don't want him getting used to living here."

"Raoul…"

"Im serious, Christine. And I would be more comfortable if you didn't spend too much time alone with him."

For a moment Christine didn't understand, then she gasped. "He's a child!"

"He's a criminal!" Raoul stood, setting his drink and book aside. "It was by your wishes that he stay here, but he will follow my rules! As should you."

Christine stood still, silently fuming. She couldn't believe Raoul would think such a thing of Erik! Even when he'd been older he'd never laid a hand on her!

"you're being cruel, Raoul. He's just a boy."

"And you…" Raoul quickly stood beside her, brushing her hair back tenderly. "are my wife, for whom I'd do anything to protect." He kissed her softly. "I've already fought him for you. I don't want to have to do it again."

Despite her anger at his unreasonable attitude, she couldn't help but smile at his kinder side. "And you won't." She took his hand in hers. "He's practicing the piano right now if you care to join us."

Raoul returned her smile, kissing the hand that held his. "Anything for you."

By the time they reached the doorway, they heard a soft melody carrying through the hall. They both looked at each other questioningly. He'd only been left alone for a few minutes.

But that was all the time he'd needed to learn his first song. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he studied the music in front of him, not even looking down at his fingers. Though it was a simple song, it was still impressive.

The couple sat on a far sofa, staring at his back in bewildered astonishment. When he finished the song, he fidgeted for a moment before turning to face them. "Do you have any more music?"

Once Erik was told he could make up his own songs, the house was never quiet. Hundreds of streams of music came from the lounge at all times, the only times he stopped was to write some of it down and those moments brought great relief to everyone.

It sounded beautiful. Most of the time. It was all just to experiment with different sounds and on occasion it sounded dreadful.

After about a week of this, the music came in smaller increments and the short tunes were more thought out and composed; more like the music Christine was used to hearing from him.

"Miss chagney?" Christine stopped and looked inside the lounge where Erik was always found, playing the piano. "Can you sing?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" She stepped inside, feeling silly just standing in the doorway.

Erik shrugged and nervously fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. "I just…..you seem like a singer to me." He bit his lip. "Do you think you could teach me?"

It almost made her sad to see her gifted and beautiful tutor asking for help in something he was once so skilled at. He had lost so much of himself with his memory.

She nodded, trying not to let her emotions show too clearly. "Of course." She walked over to him and pointed to a note. "That's a C. All you have to do is match your voice to these pitches." Her fingers swept over the row of words beneath the music.

"Can you show me?"

"Uh…sure." Christine cleared her throat and began the song slowly and softly, then gradually grew more confident. In Eriks absence, she had gotten rusty.

"Wait." Erik choked, hating to stop her. She sounded wonderful.

"What is it?" She flushed. Did he notice that she hadn't done this in a while?

Erik grumbled something softly to himself, looking over the music carefully. "That note is the same as this one and it's a G. But you sang an A sharp." He looked back up at her, a little less nervous because he was now absolutely sure. "Do it again."

Christine was startled by his tone, but only because it was how he used to talk to her. She hadn't expected him to resume his teachings so quickly. Just to make sure, she looked over the music and found that he was right. She'd sung it wrong.

"Sorry." She tried again, this time without him stopping her. He nodded and played it on the piano, asking her to sing it with the song. They continued this with two more songs before Erik stopped and headed to his room. It had been a long week and he needed sleep.

Christine couldn't help but smile. This would surely be interesting.


	2. Conversations

He still wasn't completely used to living with the demon, but it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

The boy roamed the house quietly, sometimes startling Raoul which, much to his chagrin, amused the boy far too much.

There was a simple routine to life that everyone had settled into. It was so fluid that it was almost like Erik had always belonged and just wasn't there before. Raoul was now used to eating meals next to the boy (but he still refused to talk to him) and even came to enjoy sitting in the library, reading his favorite novels while being serenaded by the sweet music that flowed through the walls at all hours.

But he still couldn't trust him.

"Mister de Chagney?" Raoul looked up from his writings to see little Erik standing in the doorway, looking rather timid and nervous.

He turned his chair to face him, but wouldn't give him the courtesy of standing. No, the monster definitely didn't deserve it. "Yes?" He asked, though he knew what was going to be asked.

Erik fidgeted for a moment with his sleeve, looking down to avoid eye-contact. Raoul had noticed he almost never actually looked anyone in the face. "Why are all my quills gone?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Lie. He had personally taken them from Eriks room after having a rather vivid nightmare about being stabbed repeatedly by a quill.

"May I, um…borrow one of yours?"

Truth be told, Raoul hadn't thought of what to say if he was asked that. Anyone could plainly see he had at least three sitting on his desk, so lying about that was out of the question. Instead, he numbly held the one in his hand out for Erik to take.

After a few moments of waiting to see if Raoul would hand it to him, Erik tentatively walked over and took the curled feather, clutching it close as if Raoul would demand it back. "Thank you." He mumbled, then quickly left to continue his song.

Raoul watched him leave, a bit confused. They didn't spend much time together but the small amounts they did, Erik was always scared and skittish; nothing like the phantom he at least somewhat knew at the opera house.

To remedy his lack of understanding, he sent for madame Giry to explain.

"A truly unexpected surprise, monsieur…" She fluidly removed her cloak in a way that only a graceful dancer could. "to receive an invitation to your estate. What is the occasion?"

"Nothing special." Raoul motioned for one of the servants to take her cloak. "I wanted to speak with you."

"What about?" She moved her long braid over one shoulder.

Raoul was comforted by her serious tone. It was much better than Christine's motherly voice that was overflowing with compassion and irrational kindness. Perhaps Giry would be more inclined to listen to reason.

"It's about Erik."

For a moment fear and concern flickered across her features before returning to an odd mixture of distaste and utter lack of emotion.

"There isn't much to say." She replied. "Perhaps I'm not the one you should be asking."

"Please, madam. He's terrified of me."

The woman sighed, looking around to make sure the maids had left. "He has a bad history with men. I don't believe I should be telling you…"

"If you wish for him to stay I need to know."

She closed her eyes and knitted her brow in slight discomfort, most likely from a distant memory resurfacing that she didn't like. "Alright. But, please. Lets move the conversation somewhere more private."

"We can hear him playing…"

"He is very clever."

So, due to Raoul's lack of a response and Giry's naturally demanding nature, they moved to the greenery room attached to the back of the house. It would be perfect for avoiding Erik, since it was so sunny and warm; the exact opposite of Eriks taste.

"You have a beautiful home." Giry commented, looking over the vast amounts of flowers.

"Thank you madam. But please, don't change the subject." They both sat in garden chairs facing each other. "Tell me everything you know about him."

Giry sighed and sat on the edge of her seat to keep her perfect posture. "The…the first time I met him, I was living in the opera house as a ballet girl. We went to a traveling circus to get a break from practice and…" She stopped for a moment. She almost seemed to be wrapped deeper into the memory. "Im sorry sir. it's a very unflattering memory."

Raoul merely nodded, waiting patiently for her to continue.

For a moment it seemed like she wasn't going to tell him, but then she whispered. "He was in a cage."

"What?"

"He.. Erik was kept in a cage; referred to as the Devils Child." A shaky inhale. "He's afraid of men because they beat him. Our first encounter was when he killed the ring leader to free himself. After that… he saw killing as a way to protect himself. He had known no other life than the opera house, but now that he's lost his memory, he only remembers the circus."

It was a lot to take in. He never thought of the Phantom having a past, especially one so cruel. "What can I do, then?"

Giry looked up hopefully. From the way he acted, he seemed only interested in learning about Eriks past; not using it to help bridge them together. "Just be kind to him. He is a solitary man, but he needs someone right now."

They talked for a while longer before Madame Giry left and Raoul bid her goodbye. For the moment, Raoul felt compelled to bond with Erik, if only to change the course of their relationship from host and guest to something a bit more personal. Perhaps if Erik didn't see him as a threat, he wouldn't stab him in his sleep or something.

That line of thought was irrational, since Erik didn't remember killing anyone and wouldn't feel the need to anyway, but Raoul wasn't willing to take the chance.

No matter what, he couldn't trust the demon.


	3. A Day Out

"…cendo into a high B, then…" A pause for Erik to write it down. "a quarter note A. No, wait. A flat."

"May I hear it?" Christines sweet voice asked?

Another pause, then the sharp keys of the piano bounced around the halls in a melodic ballad, then seemed to cut off abruptly. "What does it sound like to you?"

"… It reminds me of the color green."

Raoul raised a brow. That wasn't what he'd imagined at all.

"Odd." Erik responded before replaying a few of the notes slower. "It goes too high; makes it sound happy."

"Is it not?"

"Well.." A chair creaked. "I was going for something more…mysterious. I'll need to work on it."

"Hm. I should probably go to the opera house today. May I hear the new version when I return?"

"Of course, miss De Chagney."

"Good." She replied curtly. "Au revoir."

Raoul froze. He should be moving! Getting out of the hallway before Christine-

"Dear?" He jumped. "What are you doing out here?"

He turned and tried to seem nonchalant, despite the fact that he was so edged now that he could hardly speak. "uh… Merely wishing you goodbye before you left for the opera house."

Of course she didn't buy that for a second, but she let it go. "Please don't hurt each other while I'm gone." She kissed him on the cheek and quickly departed.

Once she was gone, Raoul turned back to look into the lounge where Erik was comfortably seated on the piano bench, leaning over to write a few cords down on one of the many sheets of paper covering the pianos surface.

Before he could allow himself to rethink this plan, Raoul stepped inside and coughed into his hand. Erik jumped and turned to look at him.

"M-monsieur de Chagney!" He blurted, blushing a bit at his own exclamation. Little Erik was a bit of an introvert and didn't like to make too much noise. Well, not talking at least. The piano was a whole different story.

A curt nod was his only response, as Raoul didn't seem so surprised by the outburst. "I see you've gotten a lot done." He looked out over the vast amounts of music around the boy. "But you can't stay in here all the time. It's not healthy."

"oh." Erik deflated and set his quill down. Raoul would have to remember to hide that one as well. "What else am I to do?"

He had actually given it a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion that going for a walk was the best course of action. "Would you care to go on a stroll around town?"

From the look on Eriks face, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but didn't have the nerve to say so. Instead, he stood and followed Raoul out to his carriage, taking a seat across from him and keeping his head low as the compartment bounced to life.

Raoul caught himself staring at young Erik, but couldn't seem to pull his gaze away. It was just so odd to see him -the murderous angel of music- trapped in such a young, vulnerable body. It seemed too human and he couldn't wrap his mind around such a concept.

"You made a new mask." He stated, noticing the white porcelain fitted to the side of his face. He hadn't really noticed before. The boy was pale enough that it hardly contrasted to his skin. And he hardly ever saw the boy so it didn't seem out of place.

Erik looked up for a moment, then out the window. "Madame Giry helped me make it…the last time she visited."

Raoul nodded. Madame Giry had practically demanded to visit twice a week to make sure Erik was doing alright. So far her visits were the only thing that brought Erik out of his music besides eating, and even then he skipped meals frequently.

"She is a… productive woman." He muttered, trying to see what was so fascinating about the window.

Erik smiled a bit. "She's really nice."

"I suppose." He drawled, not putting any effort into the statement. The woman was too stony for his taste. "So, Erik. Are you interested in anything besides music?"

Erik found it easy to talk to Raoul when he wasn't being completely hostile. He vaguely wondered why the man was being so suddenly nice, but decided not to question such a gift. This mans friendship could keep him out of the circus forever, if he played his cards right. "I like magic."

"Magic?" Raoul blinked. He didn't know what to expect exactly, but that wasn't on his list.

"Yeah." Erik beamed, almost jumping in his seat. "There used to be one in the circus before the police came after him. He did this neat trick with flowers that he pulled out of his sleeve." He bit his lip a bit. "And building stuff. Oh, and painting."

"Those are, uh, some wide hobbies." Raoul scratched his neck. He'd never liked those thieving magic men, and he knew nothing about architecture. He wasn't enough of an art coinsure that he could hold much of a conversation off that, so he was back at square one.

"What interests you?" Erik asked, seeming a lot more open that before. Raoul was thankful for that at least.

"Im more of an investor. Money dealings and the like."

They both were surprised to feel the carriage come to a sudden halt. A quick look outside showed that they were in the middle of a bustling street.

Raoul opened the door and hopped out, waiting for Erik to follow. He did, a little bit slower, and seemed to have reverted back to his timid self. He kept his head bowed and his arms close.

He told the driver to head to the café and get himself something to drink. They'd be back in an hour or so. He nodded, then clicked the reigns and made his way to the nearest restaurant.

"where to first, Erik?" He looked around, thinking of what would be the best place to start at. Maybe a music store, or something more age appropriate like a toy store.

Erik looked around as well, but not quite as happily. He hated people. He hated towns. He just wanted to go back home and read or something.

When Erik didn't respond, he took the initiative and started walking to a nearby toy store. Erik hastily followed, trying to keep his face low and unnoticed.

A bell above the door dinged to signal new arrivals. The woman behind the counter smiled warmly at the man who was familiar around Paris, but whom she'd never been introduced to. She smiled at the boy as well, even though he didn't look at her. "May I help you with anything?" She asked.

"No, thank you." Raoul responded just as kindly, looking around. "Go ahead and pick something out, Erik."

The boy started to venture on his own course through the store, letting his eyes wander over each toy before stopping at a plush monkey holding symbols. He carefully picked it up and studied it before handing it to the man.

"Will this be all?" The woman asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the boys face. He seemed so mysterious and it sparked her curiosity.

Raoul nodded, looking down at Erik briefly before paying for the toy. Once it was done, Raoul handed it to the boy and they exited the store.

The woman huffed unhappily. She would never know what his face would look like. She shrugged. Probably just some shy little kid. Nothing special.

They walked back out into the crisp afternoon air. Erik was incredibly thankful that no one seemed to notice them and kept to themselves, but didn't know how long that would last. In a matter of seconds Raoul was taking him into another store, this one being for antiques and glassware.

An old man milled about, looking over a few glass ornaments and another man stood at the register, watching everyone with an eagle eye that warned anyone who entered not to even try and steal anything. Erik shuddered involuntarily. He'd seen that look too many times to count.

Raoul instantly went to the old book section where multiple shelves were littered with a few dusty poems and journals of multiple natures. Erik could see that the man was busy and would probably be staying for a while, so he headed for the decorative boxes. They were small and usually golden with some intricate hand-made design on the lid. Erik studied them closely with fascination.

"Are you going to buy something?" The old man growled from the other side of the room. Erik looked up hesitantly to see whom he was referring. Since the man was staring straight at him, he supposed it was him.

Erik shrugged, not really sure if Raoul would even allow him anything since he'd already bought him the toy. He flicked his gaze to Raoul who wasn't even paying attention and felt a bit of anxiety well up in him. He was still being stared at and didn't know what to do.

"If you aren't here to buy anything get out of my store." He insisted, pointing to the shabby wooden door.

Oh, how Erik hated mankind. The rude indignifications he was constantly put through when they were involved. He wished so badly that he didn't have to deal with people ever again, but instead of resisting the order, he walked over to Raoul and held onto his sleeve.

Raoul looked down, barely keeping himself from pulling his arm away. "What?"

"That man…" Erik mumbled. "says I have to leave."

"hmm?" raoul looked over to the git behind the counter. "Don't mind him, he's just old and tempered. But you should probably stand by me for now."

Erik nodded, thankful for the barrier between himself and the 'git'.

After another few minutes, Raoul decided to leave, carting Erik along by his sleeve.

It didn't take a genius to notice that Erik was stressed by all this. All the foreign noise and people were probably winding his muscles tighter and tighter and if he didn't do something soon to help him relax, he may pass out.

"Want to, uh, go to the park?"

Erik was shaking now. His head felt light and was pounding at the same time. His knuckles were white with strain.

Since he didn't respond, Raoul just took it as a yes, diverting their course to make a b-line for the public park.

Surprisingly enough, despite the bustle of the town, the park was practically deserted. They walked through the paths, getting lost amongst the flowers and trees. Erik loosened his grip on Raouls shirt and even went so far as to stop and look at a few interesting flowers. He usually went back to Raouls side when someone walked by.

Somewhere around the center of the park was a large clearing where a few local boys were playing a random game with a leather ball.

"Why don't you go play, Erik?" Raoul nudged him forward.

He shook his head feverishly, but Raoul would have none of it. He kept shooing him on, insisting that he join in on the game. Eventually Erik gave in and hesitantly walked over to the other boys.

Raoul watched the interaction with a small smile. Erik almost seemed completely human like this, out in the sunlight in public, interacting with other people.

From what he could see, Erik was greeting them (but he couldn't see his face or what he was saying). The oldest of the group, a strapping young lad of about thirteen, looked at him with distaste and nudged one of his friends who laughed harshly and loud enough for Raoul to hear it clearly. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. Erik seemed to wilt and was about to persist with a retort, but a few of the other boys were joining in now, gathering around the scene and taunting openly.

Raoul was about to call Erik back over and abort mission, but before he could shout over to him, one of the boys had snuck behind him and reach up to Eriks face. He drew his hand back and ran off with the white mask, shouting to the other boys who tossed it around to avoid its recapture. Erik quickly covered his face in shame.

Within seconds Raoul was at Eriks side, checking to make sure he was alright. He was, but he was shaken up and scared. Not to mention deeply broken over what had happened.

"There is nothing honorable in this. Return what you have stolen." Raoul demanded, shouting at the boy who currently held the mask. The small boy placed a delicately hurt expression on his face, tugging at fake tears. Raoul, of course, would not fall for it. "Or should I find your parents and tell them what you all have done?"

The boy panicked and threw it to the eldest who caught it deftly. Raoul turned to him, ready to reprimand him as well, but the boy just laughed. "Don't even try it. I don't even have parents."

For a moment, Raoul gave him a sympathizing look; one that drove Erik over the edge. Before anyone could react, Erik had punched the boy square in the jaw.

"Erik!" Raoul watched in horror as the once completely docile boy suddenly jumped the teen and began beating him mercilessly.

But Erik wouldn't listen. 'How could he sympathize with this piece of…of shit?' He sent another punch to the teens gut, sending him staggering a few steps. 'He's a thief! He's the monster!' Tears welled down Eriks cheek and he could do nothing to stop them. All the other children could only stare.

Once Raoul came to his senses (Which seemed increasingly hard to do around Erik) he pulled him away from the boy, scooped up the discarded mask and hurried away, not really caring where he was going.

Erik struggled and kicked, growling fiercely even though he was still choking on sobs. He'd never experienced such a blinding rage. The anger seemed to have sprouted at an incredible rate until it was its own entity and he could no longer control it.

Raoul set Erik on an abandoned bench. "What were you thinking?" He fumed.

He didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say to justify what he'd just done?

The vicomte became impatient and grabbed Eriks hand to drag him back to the carriage. He didn't expect him to be so compliant, but didn't question it.

"C-can I have my mask back?" Raoul stopped and looked over his shoulder. Erik was using his free hand to hide as much of his face as he could, which wasn't saying much since he had small child hands.

He crouched down and fished in the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out the mask and handing it to Erik. "Tell me why you hit him."

Erik wiped away the last tears clinging to his cheeks and slipped the mask on. "You forgave his actions because of his parents." His voice came out an almost whine.

"You can't condemn a child." As soon as it left his mouth he realized what the problem was. It wasn't JUST because his mask had been taken. That was one of the many issues coming to the surface. Erik was a child now and he didn't understand why things were the way they were. From what Giry had told him, Eriks life so far was one misery after another, yet he had forgiven that bratty thief before he'd even considered forgiving Erik.

He stayed still for a moment, just studying him. Erik was such a handsome young boy, despite the rough, melted half of his face. And no matter what he'd been before, he was just a boy now. A boy that would never be able to join society, no matter what anyone said.

"Erik." He took his hand again, but less forcefully. "Im sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. But…" He added. "you shouldn't have punched him."

"But he-"

"You need another outlet for your anger." Raoul observed out loud. "Perhaps you should take fencing."

Erik pouted, but didn't argue. Maybe he SHOULD take up another hobby. One that he could use later to protect himself.

"Its probably been an hour." Raoul gave him a lopsided smile, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "Our driver will be wondering where we are."

Again, Erik didn't respond. He only nodded and took hold of Raouls sleeve as they exited the park and made their way through town to the café where their ride was waiting

Sure enough, the carriage was waiting at the end of a curb; the horse hitched in up front and the driver sitting patiently, holding the reigns. Raoul said a quick apology and hopped inside, followed by Erik.

Erik curled up against the side of the compartment and rubbed his eyes. He had had a very stressful past hour and he just wanted to go home.

Raoul almost smiled at how cute he looked, huddled in the corner and already half asleep. The boy had a way of going from monstrous ferocity to cuddly cute in such an extreme way that you completely forgot about the other when you saw one.

The ride was short, but Erik was fast asleep when they got back to the mansion. Raoul didn't think he could bear to wake him, so he gathered him into his arms and carried him inside.

"mm.." A ghost of a smile reached Erik's lips and he wrapped his fingers into the material of Raouls shirt.

When he got to Eriks room, he carefully unwrapped each finger and set him down gently on the soft bed. Once he was settled on the bed Erik reached out and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to his chest like a lifeline before falling back asleep.

Raoul smiled and turned around, coming face to face with the catastrophe of Eriks room.

First of all, it was dirty. Papers and clothes filled any open surface they could reach, making it impossible to see the floor. Upon closer inspection Raoul could see that the papers weren't just drawings or sheet music, some were inventions. Detailed schematics of random mechanical devises. While it was impressive, it could also prove to be dangerous. This boy was brilliant in many ways, but if Raoul didn't keep an eye on him he would become the phantom again.

He shook his head. They were going to return him to normal anyway, then he'd be off to jail to face justice.

Raoul left the room and went back to his study. He needed to talk with Giry again and see if she'd found anything out.


	4. Mid day plots

Do you guys think he should get his memory back or not? Like he'll still be a little kid, but he'll remember everything, or should I just keep it like this?

Message me to tell me what you think

Madame Giry stepped over a forgotten candlestick, lying uselessly on its side on the stony floor. She wished that Erik was a bit more organized.

So far she'd searched through the music room by the lake, his bedroom, the swan-bed bedroom, and one of the cellars. It was almost sundown and she had only finished a fraction of the underground labyrinth.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. (well, not that she could tell. She wasn't completely sure what had always filled those rooms) Just papers, drawings, candles, etc.

It was baffling and angering that there weren't any clues whatsoever as to why Erik had become a child. Giry, by nature, needed to know everything. The fact that something so big; so important!- was not in her grasp practically had her in a panic.

She decided to leave it be for now. No use losing much needed sleep if she could just continue tomorrow.

Madame Giry used one of the safest passageways that she knew of and still almost fell into a trap. She chided herself and knew that she'd have to talk to Erik about these halls when he was back to normal.

Everyone was getting ready for bed when she reached the dormitories. No one noticed her enter and wish Meg goodnight. Perhaps she had spent a little too much time with Erik. She was practically a shadow herself.

Upon entering her own bedroom, she noticed a note that had been slid under the door. She picked it up and carefully opened it without ripping the seal.

Dear Mme Giry,

I am sorry to bother you, but it is getting late in the month and there is still no information about Eriks current state.

We would all be grateful to you if you would come to the de Chagney mansion and discuss the problem. Perhaps we should have Erik join us to tell us what he remembers.

Sincerely,

Viscount Raoul de Changey

Giry folded the note carefully before slipping into bed. Raoul could be such a child; not knowing what to do with a new situation. He had to call upon others for conformation and help when he wasn't completely sure what was going to happen. She just hoped Erik was doing alright in that strange house.

"Hahahaha!" Erik jumped from chair to chair, grinning evily as Christine chased after him.

"Erik, this is no way to behave!"

"I am not Erik, I am darkness itself! I am the night!" He grabbed the ends of his cape and spread it out like wings behind him as he bounced around and took off down the hall. Christine fumed as she made chase.

"You're a hellion! Give me my pin back!"

"I need it!"

"For what?" She gave one last burst of energy and caught his cloak, making him fall back. She took a moment to catch her breath, but Erik was perfectly fine and trying to get free.

"Im making something." He stated, as if it were obvious.

"Why do you need my hairpin?" She asked, trying her hardest not to yell.

Erik stopped tugging and crossed his arms. "I need it for the invention! Its going to be a conductor!"

"A...conductor?"

"For electricity!" He nodded and saw her confusion as the perfect time to pull free. He stumbled back slightly from the force and stood, brushing off his trousers. "I'll give it back when its finished. I just need it for a moment."

"I can buy you your own hairpin. I need this one today." She plucked it from his small hands and smiled. "Or you can get a copper spool."

"I'm not going into town again." Erik grumbled. Christine had never been told what went on that day, but since nether of the boys wanted to speak of it she could only assume the worst.

Christine tsked. "Erik, you need sunlight and fresh air. Staying indoors will make you ill."

"The sun hates me! I am darkness!" He threw up his arms, making his cape flare again. His undignified pout made Christine giggle.

"The sun loves every child. Now go out to the gardens and enjoy the day." Erik pouted even more, but headed in the direction of the greenery.

"Good evening, Erik." Raoul greeted offhandedly as he passed him.

"fop." Erik muttered and continued without looking at him.

"Christine…" Raoul helped her to stand. "What on earth are you doing kneeling to the ground in the middle of the hallway?"

She quickly hopped up and pretended it never happened. "What did you need?"

"I seem to have misplaced one of my hair ribbons. Have you seen it?"

Christine laughed and patted his shoulder. "Ask Erik. He may have taken it for one of his creations."

The light tone didn't seem to ease Raouls tension at the mention of Erik. He gave her a curt nod and continued down the hall to the guest room that Erik had also claimed.

The guest room, which had previously only held a twin sized bed, was now filled with contraptions Erik had invented. His own room couldn't hold all the things he insisted on having, including boxes and folders full of music sheets (used and unused) and various instruments that he had made himself based off diagrams in books that filled the shelves on the walls.

For a moment, Raoul had to stop and just take everything in; his previous task completely forgotten. Ignoring all warnings his mind tried to give him, he began exploring through the piles of shiny things.

It was all so odd! All these trinkets and designs! He remembered a few from the diagrams he'd seen in Eriks room a few days ago.

"Oh!" Raoul pulled out a strand of red ribbon from the pile and smirked triumphantly. Now that he had his prize, he could leave.

But he stopped when he saw a violin. It was a little misshapen and had wire strings, but it was undoubtedly a violin. He picked it up and placed it on his shoulder, scooping up the makeshift bow before strumming it to test out the strings. Surprisingly, it was in tune and had a hollow metallic sound. How odd- yet intriguing!

Without really thinking about it, he began playing a song he remembered from his childhood. Raoul remembered how much he missed playing. He promised himself to get his old violin out and play it again sometime.

"Master Erik, I..oh! Sir de Chagney!" Raoul turned to see a young maid standing in the doorway. She looked flushed yet relieved that it was Raoul and not the young phantom. "Do you know where Erik is?"

"He was heading west last time I saw him. Why?"

"Madame Giry is here and wishes to speak with him."

"What?" Raoul quickly set down the violin and ran out of the room, unintentionally pushing the girl aside. He made his way down to the greeting hall and held onto the railing for a moment to catch his breath before opening the door. "Madame, good to see you."

"Likewise, Vicomte." She nodded in acknowledgment. "You wished to speak with me." Giry looked past him. "But where is Erik?"

"The maid is on the search." Raoul smiled. "Please, come inside."

They all sat in the library where they met when Erik was first brought to the mansion. Only this time, Christine wasn't present and Erik was much less timid.

"How have you been, Erik?" Giry asked.

Erik seemed very delighted to see Madame Giry, since he hadn't been told she would be visiting. "Good. I've been practicing those music sheets you gave me. They're very complicated, but they sound wonderful." He coughed into his hand, blushing slightly. "But enough about me. What has brought you here, madame?"

Giry tweaked a smile at his politeness. "Actually, I'm here for you."

"Me?" Erik blinked.

Raoul sighed. "We…still have not informed him. I think now is the best time, without Christine here."

Giry nodded, then turned to look back at Erik who was waiting for an explanation. "Erik…" Her mind fumbled over what to say. "Do you remember when I found you in those underground rooms?" Erik nodded. "Those are…were your rooms."

"But I don't-"

"You don't remember anything, but you were a much older man who lived beneath the opera house. Do you remember the circus?" Erik flinched at the memory, but nodded his head. It seemed like a distant dream that he'd like to just forget about. "When I was a little girl, I helped you escape from the circus and took you to the Opera Populaire where you'd been living until…something happened to make you…like this."

"I…don't understand." Erik furrowed his brows. "This doesn't make any sense."

Raoul cut in. "We've been trying to find a reason for why you've changed, but so far we've come up short." He gave an almost apologetic look to the confused boy. "We were wondering if you remembered anything at all that might have caused this."

"Caused what?" Eriks voice rose. He hated feeling confused. "I never escaped from the circus. I just remember ending up in a dark room and you finding me."

"We know it's confusing, Erik. But there must be something that we're missing. Something that perhaps you can remember." Giry took hold of his shoulder.

"How can I be an old man? Look at me!" He stood to prove his point. "I can't be much older than eight!"

Honestly, Erik didn't know his own age. When he was six his mother had thrown him out in disgrace and he wandered the streets until a man yelled out and alerted the authorities. After he was knocked out by one of the men he woke up in a cage and the days blurred together until he forgot how long he'd been traveling or how old he was.

"At the moment you are. But something happened that made you this way. You simply can't remember anything." Giry tried to touch his shoulder again, but Erik pulled away.

"You've all gone mad."

"Erik. Please listen to us. We need you to concentrate." Raoul stood as well with a small glare, though he wasn't sure why he was angry. It was more of intimidation than anything. "Focus on your memories from before you were in the underground rooms."

"No!" Erik swiveled in the mans direction, shooting him a deadly look that was tinged with fear. "I will never think of that again! I'm never going back to the circus!" He burst out of the library and fled to his room, securely locking the door.

Raoul and Giry shared a look before following him.

Raoul knocked on the door. "I didn't mean that, Erik. I'll never send you there. We just…" He rest his head against the wood. "Please. Try to remember."

There was no response, but that spoke more than any shout would. He closed his eyes and let out a deep, shuddery exhale. He stood straight before looking over to Giry. "Thank you for trying, Madame. Sorry that it turned out this way."

She sighed. "In a way I sort of expected this. Do not hold yourself responsible. Those memories were always traumatic to him. It's why he's afraid of men." She bowed before heading to the door. "Do you mind if, next time, I bring along Meg?"

"Not at all." He called after her, hoping she heard. He looked back at the door one last time before heading to the gardens. He needed some fresh air.


	5. anxiety

Christine did a twirl as a maid removed her scarf. "I'm ho-me!" She smiled brightly as she made her way through the halls, though her smile slowly decreased the longer she walked. Where was everybody?

"Raoul? Darling?" She peeked her head into the library. No one. She made her way to the dining room. Nothing. "Erik? Raoul?"

She was starting to get worried, but then she saw Raoul stepping out of one of the doorways up ahead. "Raoul!" She called out, regaining her happy smile. "You won't believe this! I finally got the lead for the play!" She almost jumped with giddy excitement. "You should have seen Carlotta's face! She…what's wrong, dear?"

Raoul shook his head and sighed. "Erik is in his room. He refuses to leave and he's…" At that moment, from the worried look on Christine's face, Raoul knew he just couldn't tell her what he'd done. "…he's really depressed."

"Well, maybe I can cheer him up." Christine smiled weakly. "Then we'll continue our conversation." She gave him a peck on he cheek and headed to Eriks room.

Raoul frowned. He still felt guilty for doing that to Erik. It needed to be asked, but he felt horrible for putting so much on Eriks shoulders. He was just a child. A child with a horrible past that he was making him relive through his memories.

"Erik?" Christine knocked on the door and jiggled the handle to find it locked. There wasn't any sound coming from inside, but the fact that it was locked let her know that Erik was indeed in the room. She pulled the pin out of her hair and stuck it in the lock, hearing a satisfying click from the handle.

She found the boy curled up against the wall on his bed with a stuffed monkey toy held to his chest. His eyes were glistening and his cheeks were stained with streaks of red. He'd been crying.

Christine sat next to him and stroked back his hair, ignoring the fact that he flinched at her touch. "What's wrong, Erik?" She asked in her sweetest voice.

He sniffed, trying to catch his breath enough to answer. "I...I think R-raoul is mad at me." He choked out a sob and turned to cling to her. "I don't wanna go back to the c-circus!"

"What? Oh Erik, we would never send you away." She tugged him closer to hug him more firmly. "It's alright."

Just her presence made him feel a little better. Even his own mother had never done anything like this. He wished he could stay here forever- with Christine and her love.

"I d-don't understand anything." He moaned. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Shh. Erik." She began rocking lightly. After a while of sitting like this, Christine began to hum masquerade. When it was finished, she sang music of the night as calmly as she could.

It seemed to do the trick, because when the song was finished, Erik was limp against her side, breathing evenly.

Christine smiled and laid him down on his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and giving him a goodnight kiss on his forehead.

"mm.." He shifted onto his side and mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake. Christine quickly left, taking one last look at the sleeping boy before heading to the library with a heavy glare.

"Raoul!" Raoul cringed and closed his book, guiltily looking over at the doorway. The mood had dramatically shifted and it left Raoul feeling a bit uneasy.

"Yes, my dear?" He smiled so innocently it hurt. "What can I-"

"What did you do to upset him so badly? Why did he think we were going to send him to the circus?" She flared out her hands in a show of frustration.

Raoul stood. "Christine, believe me, I never said anything about sending him to the circus. I don't know where he got that." She gave him a disbelieving look, but he didn't really want to tell her where he'd gotten the idea. To say that he had practically pushed Erik into a corner until he became introverted yet again was something Raoul knew he couldn't do. "But…Madame Giry was over earlier today."

"She was gone at the opera house. Meg told me she came over." Christine took a step forward. "Why didn't you tell me? What were you talking to her about?"

"Erik." Raoul ducked his head. "We asked him if there was anything he could remember that might have caused…you know…"

"Oh, Raoul." Christine shook her head at his mislead intentions. A tear appeared at the corner of her eyes. "After what has happened…"

"I didn't mean to push. We took it as steadily as we could." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, but it was obvious that she still didn't agree with what had happened. "Did you tell him? About the older Erik?"

There was a long pause, in which Raoul couldn't meet her gaze, before he nodded and Christine let out an exasperated noise.

"And you waited until I had gone!" She turned from him. "Do you not trust me, Raoul? Would I have interfered?"

"No, Christine!" Raoul attempted to hug her from behind, but she moved out of his grasp. "Please. I'll make it up somehow."

She paused, then turned to face him once again. "What if we can't get him back to normal? What if…" She tugged a loose strand of curly hair. "What if this is a new beginning for him?"

"What are you saying?"

"What if he isn't meant to change back?" She almost smiled. "Think of it. No killing, no kidnapping. He could start a whole new life!" This time, she did smile.

"And who, prey tell, would raise him? Us?" Christine flushed and the smile disappeared. That's exactly what she was thinking and Raoul was scoffing the idea. "Changing into a child isn't normal, my love. He can't stay like this."

"Erik has never been normal." She frowned. "And if you won't help me then fine."

Raoul took her hands in his and pulled her closer. "Listen to me, Christine. I never said I wouldn't help you. But Erik is not our child. And what will he do when he gets older?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a kind heart." Raoul smiled in a dreamy way. "But the world is not so kind. He can't live in normal society. What kind of job could he get?"

"He could work at the Opera Populaire."

"Doing what?"

Christine suddenly brightened. "You could teach him about business! He could become the manager some day! Hardly anyone would have to see his face!"

Raoul shook his head, still smiling. "You have a wonderful imagination." For a moment he just stared at her, smiling kindly and brushing back her hair. "For now it seems we have no choice. There is nowhere else for him and we can't figure out how to change him back."

"You mean-"

"Yes. He will stay here. But! He is not a de Chagney." Raouls blood boiled at the thought. His former rival sharing the name would be horrible.

"Oh, Raoul!" Christine jumped into his arms and kissed him happily. "you are too wonderful!"

Funny how one could go from being a heartless monster to the sweetest man on earth within minutes.

"Once he awakens I'll tell him the good news!" Christine beamed. "Just think of it! He can come to the opera house with me and-"

Raoul almost choked on a breath and he began coughing. "Christine! How on earth could you explain this to them? They'd want his head!"

"But he's-"

"He murdered four people. That we know of! Who knows what else he's done. Do you think they'll just forgive him because he's a child now?"

"You did."

"And look how long that took." Raoul scoffed. "If the managers find him they'll get the police and hang him, no matter what you say."

Christine shuddered at such a horrible thought and gave him a pleading look. "Then what should we do? He can't stay here forever. He needs to go outside and interact if we don't want him introverted for the rest of his life."

A maid scurried in and told them it was time for dinner. Raoul quickly thanked her and looked back over to Christine. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

Christine watched him leave with a frown; praying to God that they really would.

Raoul went to his study and dipped a feather pen in ink before writing a quick letter. When he was finished he read over it.

Dear Mme Giry,

Christine and I have decided that, until we can change him back, Erik is to remain here. We will raise him fully if it comes to that. Christine also wants to bring him to visit the opera house to look for any apprenticeships that Erik may be able to fill.

Before such a drastic measure is taken, we want to insure Eriks safety should he return to the opera house. If you wouldn't mind assisting us in convincing the managers when the time arrives.

-Viscount de Chagney

He nodded his approval and went out to the stables for his coachman to take to Madame Giry.

When he came back inside he went to the dining hall where Christine was already waiting. Erik was still asleep, so they would be dining alone. He smiled. That was no trouble. He missed having alone time with her, now that Erik consumed most of their free time.

They sat, eating and staring at each other for the longest time before Raoul went around to Christines side and began kissing her. She smiled and returned the gesture. Both of them abandoned their meals and headed to the bedroom.


	6. Resurfacing

Life was absolutely boring to Erik.

True, he had a wonderful home and wonderful parents (well, a great mother and a not always terrible father figure) and he had a promising future, but he was tired of this monotony. Every day, he came to the opera house and trained with the chorus director for hours, then left with his mother when it was time to go home.

No one knew how much he loved the opera house. It practically called out to him, like he needed to be there forever. But the tug was constricting and it felt like more of a cage than a relief. He adored music and he marveled at everything the opera had to offer, but it just didn't seem right. There was something missing.

Excitement!

Erik often spent his free days sitting in the library with the sunlight drifting in through the window; his favorite book sitting on his lap. These lucky people in stories had dangerous lives. That's what Erik wanted.

He sighed and snuggled deeper into his seat. Box 5. For some reason, he'd staked a claim on this specific seat and hated the thought of others taking it from him. His mother had seemed somewhat surprised when he requested to sit here during all the operas, but she allowed it anyway.

At the moment he was supposed to be assisting Gabriel, the chorus director, for the upcoming play. But he really didn't feel like it. He was twelve after all. Shouldn't he be able to make his own decisions?

Plus everyone gave him weird looks. That was to be expected when you wear a mask, but these people saw him every day! Shouldn't they be used to it by now? Even Gabriel was cautious around him, like he would strangle him when his back was turned.

Erik glared out over the open room. He was pouting. Personally, he hated people who pouted. It was a sign of weakness or stubbornness, which was just as annoying. He needed to get up and do something or his mother would have his hide over it.

With a groan, he sat up and dusted off his puffy white shirt, then his black trousers, trying to buy himself more time. The mere thought of spending another day like the rest made him want to sit back down and hide from all expectations. This was all just too boring.

He walked down the stairs, counting each, then trailed along the halls that lead backstage. A ballet rat (another term he wasn't sure why he used) walked by and gave him a cautious look before quickening her pace. Erik kept his posture proud, even though he wanted to shrink from such a look. It was unsettling and made him feel a little empty inside when they looked at him like one would towards a wild dog.

It wasn't all bad. The managers stayed clear of him, but always gave him ornate birthday gifts. It was for that very reason that Erik liked them so much. They weren't nosy and didn't give him weird looks.

And the Giry's were nice to him as well. Madame Giry told him all about the fundamentals to ballet in an opera and Meg played games with him when she had free time.

Erik suddenly stopped and took a step back, looking down a particularly dark hallway. Of course, he'd seen this hallway a million times, but it just seemed…familiar in a weird way. He gave a look down his original path, then decided he was late enough, he might as well see what was so interesting down here.

He felt a chill; a familiar thrill that seemed like a distant dream. It brought a smile to his lips even though he didn't know why. Between the second and third doorway, he stopped. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew it should be around the panels right…there!

A loose board protruded from the wall and was almost completely undetectable except that Erik had better vision than most people. He gently tugged on it and heard a click before the door swung on its hinges enough for him to pull on it. A cool draft wafted from the opening as he stepped through. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door closed with a resounding bang.

For some reason, he didn't feel scared. It felt like just what he needed. Adventure!

The hallway was dark and cold and wet. The walls got more narrow the farther he went and at some point the floors became stone instead of wood.

"odd." Erik listened to his voice vibrate off the walls. He grinned and sang a scale. It came back crystal clear and even a bit improved.

Erik came across a few rooms after a while. They were full of papers and stage props. It looked a lot like his room, but bigger and with darker colors. Raoul wouldn't let him have too much black, but he couldn't imagine why.

He quickly scouted the rest of the rooms, but they were all the same. Dark colors and odd items compacted together.

Erik huffed and crossed his arms. Some adventure this turned out to be. No treasure, no damsel in distress (not that he was into girls yet) and no monster for him to slay. He kept walking, hoping to find something a bit more exciting.

And then he found the lake.

It was vast and unnaturally glossy, but most of all it was familiar. From back when he first met Madame Giry in that underground room. But that would mean he's underground right now.

Erik was a bit panicked about being so far gone when he should be practicing with Gabriel, but he was more excited about finding these rooms again. He almost believed they were a dream and he would never see any of this again. It was too good to be true.

"Erik." Erik jumped and turned to see Madame Giry standing behind him with a scowl.

"M-madame Giry…" He fiddled with his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

"You shouldn't be here, Erik." She grabbed his arm. "It's dangerous."

He gave her a pleading look. "But I didn't get to explore! I just want to look around."

"No. You need to leave."

"Why are you scared of this place?" Erik demanded. "Why can't I look around?"

She crouched down to be eye level and frowned. "This isn't the place for children. And you're supposed to be upstairs learning how to coach voices."

"I'm not a child." He pouted. "I'm twelve now."

She gave him one of her rare smiles and took his hand. "Next week, after the opera I will show you everything about this place."

Erik smiled as well and followed her down the hall. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Gabriel wasn't too angry when Erik showed up late. He never was, but Erik new not to take advantage of that. Even though everyone seemed afraid of angering him for some reason, his mother would kill him if he ever took advantage of everyone's oddly placed fear.

The chorus was in the middle of practicing the last song of the play and Gabriel was reprimanding one of the men for singing too early. Erik sat on a nearby stool and watched. That's all he ever did.

Gabriel asked him his opinion on a few things, most of the time menial little details that didn't need any improvement. On the rare occasion Erik would get to express his true opinion, but Gabriel hardly let him anymore since he thought he was being too 'harsh'. It was a professional opera. Harsh words needed to be spoken.

Around seven everyone was dismissed and Erik waited by the front door for his mother, who always took longer to leave since she wanted to talk with Meg.

Erik stayed in the shadows to avoid the people rushing to and fro. No one really talked to him, but that just made it even more awkward. Besides, people watching was quite interesting and gave him all sorts of information.

"Erik." Meg smiled. "How have you been?"

He marveled at her happy smile. Hardly anyone was happy around him. Not even his father.

'father figure' Erik reminded himself. He was in no way related to the man and even though he'd been adopted, he would not get his last name. Not that he wanted it. Erik de Chagney sounded odd anyway.

"Marvelous, Miss Giry. And yourself?" She held out her hand, letting him take it to kiss the back of her palm.

Her smile grew as she curtsied to him. "Always such a gentleman. I'm doing well."

"Are we leaving?" Erik asked Christine, who was standing aside while they made pleasantries. She nodded and bid farewell to Meg before taking Eriks hand and leading him out to the stable where their coach was waiting.

As soon as they got home Erik ran for the library to escape to his adventure books. He sighed contently when he plucked it from the shelves and curled up on his favorite seat.

The room had a wonderful atmosphere to it, despite the dull portrait hanging on the south-facing wall. It was all different shades of green, except the black leather couches circling a dark wooden coffee table.

Erik looked up at the picture hanging ten feet from him. There was a desire to set the portrait on fire deeply rooted within himself, but he restrained his impulse. It was a terribly tacky painting of a middle-aged woman holding a sleeping baby. She didn't smile and looked like she didn't know how to.

But besides that horrible picture, the room was great for its purpose. Even now he was fully relaxed and settled.

O.o.o.o.

"…ik. Erik…Erik!"

"huh?" Erik sat up and looked out into a dark expansion. His eyes felt heavy but he didn't want to close them.

"Erik…" A wisp of smoke curled around him, then dispersed and disappeared. He looked around, wanting to find it again.

"Who's there? Who are you?"

"Who are you?.." The voice repeated. "who are you…."

"Erik." Erik stated, but his answer wasn't as sure as he wanted it to be. "What do you want? Show yourself."

"..who are you…?" The darkness started to tighten around him, making him gulp in heavy breaths. "Who are you, really, Erik?"

"Ah!" Erik sat up, clutching his book to his chest. He looked around frantically, finding that he was in the library again and it was almost sunset.

"Are you alright?" Raoul asked from the couch across from him.

Erik stared at him for a while, shaking slightly and still breathing heavily. He opened his mouth to respond, then quickly closed it again and nodded.

Raoul smiled and went back to his own book. "Having a nightmare, hm? Perhaps you shouldn't read so many frightening books."

Erik rolled his eyes and set the book back on the shelf before heading to the lounge. He needed to take out his confusion on the piano.

in case you didn't catch it, this is four years in the future. Erik is twelve now and had almost forgotten about the underground rooms, but now its all resurfacing!


	7. Small Discoveries

"Did we used to be friends?"

Madame Giry seemed to stiffen for a moment before she let out a sigh. "I suppose." She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. "You were more of a younger brother."

Erik nodded. He was still getting used to the idea of changing ages. It didn't seem logical. But if Madame Giry said it was true, he was more inclined to believe it since she was the smartest, most reasonable person he'd ever met.

"We're here." Giry used the torch she'd been holding to light a few candles on the back of a gondola before setting it aside. She stepped inside and grabbed an oar. "Get in."

Erik obeyed without question. He took a moment to get used to the rocking of the boat before he stood and took the oar from her. "It is a gentleman's duty to row, yes?"

Giry nodded with a quirk of a smile. Erik was different than the boy she'd rescued from the circus, but it was for the best. It took a moment for Erik to get used to rowing, but he got the hang of it after a few strokes.

"If I was an architect, why didn't I make a bridge of some sort?" Erik had to move his whole body with each push, taking his energy too quickly.

"That's a long story." She pulled her braid around her shoulder, fiddling with it as they slowly floated closer to the platform in the distance. "You were a very secluded man."

"Because of my face?" Erik asked sullenly, resisting the urge to rest his hand on the porcelain mask.

"You always had a fear of people. But you've overcome it." She met his eye and gave him a very serious look. "I'm proud of you, Erik."

Erik blushed and looked out over the glossy water. This never ending darkness was starting to scare him. He was glad he had Madame Giry with him.

They got out of the boat unsteadily when they got to 'shore'. "Stay close. There are traps everywhere." She held out her hand, which Erik gratefully took.

She led him across the platform up to the stairway that led to the swan bedroom. As they went, she would tell him about all the instruments and collected items that littered the floors. Erik listened eagerly, looking at each item she spoke of with great interest.

They explored the bedrooms, a few prop storage rooms and one of the cellars when Giry decided it was time to go.

"How can you tell time down here?" Erik protested, wanting to go into a certain doorway that they had skipped.

Giry took hold of his hand again and began walking back to the lake. "Pocket watches still work underground, young monsieur."

Erik sighed and followed, though he really wanted to stay down here longer. He wasn't sure what kind of a person he used to be, but apparently he had really been interested in his mother if the multiple drawings of her were any indication.

'Its just because she's pretty.' Erik scolded himself. 'I couldn't have been in LOVE with her. She's my mom!'

But he wasn't so sure.

"here." Giry helped him into the boat once again. He stepped inside, almost falling out, but catching himself before that could happen. She handed him the oar.

"Rao-…father once hated me." Erik frowned deeply at the title he had to give the man. Raoul was not his father, but he had given Erik a lot. It was a small token of his respect, despite the fact that he was a fop sometimes. "What did I do to make him hate me so much?"

All his questions seemed to hit a sore nerve in Madame Giry. She tensed and spent too long thinking of the answer. "You two didn't meet under the best of circumstances." Was all she said, not meeting his eye.

Erik glared, but he knew he couldn't be angry at Giry. She would never bend to his anger as others did. That was a trait he greatly admired in her. But she was the only one who would give him answers and she wasn't giving him much. He wanted to understand everything! Especially since it was him he wasn't understanding.

They returned to the opposite shore that would lead them to the surface and, eventually, to the back of the opera house.

Christine was there to greet them upon resurfacing, taking Eriks hand despite his protests that he was old enough to walk outside unassisted. They both bid farewell to Madame Giry, then headed out to the carriage.

"What did you find?" Christine asked, settling in the seat across from him. Erik stared at his hands held in his lap.

"Music. And a big swan bed." He shrugged. "Not what I expected."

She smiled, though it looked slightly pained. "Did you learn anything?"

Erik looked up, then quickly averted his gaze. The sight of her smile reminded him of all those pictures he'd (apparently) made. There was something… unnatural about those drawings; unhealthy even. He hated to think he might have had obsessively romantic feelings toward his own mother.

"Erik?" He froze, realizing he'd waited too long to answer.

"Giry and I used to be friends." He stuttered. "And…you were my student?"

Christine, coughed into her hand and blushed a bit. "Yes. You were my voice coach."

"I thought I didn't have a job."

"Not a… professional job, but you didn't really need one."

Erik frowned. "There's something you aren't telling me."

Christine nearly jumped at the dark tone he'd taken. She was suddenly reminded of how frightening the Phantom had been. "I've told you everything you ask about."

"I want to know everything." He pleaded, but she didn't seem assuaged by his nicer voice. "What made me so horrible that you can't even speak of it?"

"You weren't… I…" Christine breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage jerked to a halt. "We'll speak later, Erik." She hurriedly stepped out.

"No!" Erik quickly followed and stood in her way, holding out his arms. "I want to know NOW!"

Christine took a step back, a look similar to pain flashing across her features.

Erik let his arms fall and, for a moment, they just looked at each other. He took a step closer. "Mom…"

"No…" She stumbled backward, quickly running to the door when a servant came out to assist them.

"Master Erik? Are you alright?" The maid hesitantly walked over to him. Erik stood stock still, unable to register her fear.

He knew he must look pitiful by the way the maid was acting, but he couldn't find it in himself to move. His mother had never looked at him like that before.

'Your real mother did.' Erik shivered at the thought. It brought back a flood of horrible, rusty memories. Memories of a painful past that he thought he'd forgotten.

'It was only a matter of time before she reacted the same way.'

"Stop." Erik didn't realize he'd said it out loud until the maid asked him what he meant. He ignored her and went inside.

'You're a monster. You make women quake with fear. Your family knows what you really are and that's why they'll never love you. You'll never be accepted.'

"I said stop." he growled to himself as he walked to his room, locking the door behind him. "They love me."

'Who are you, Erik? Who are you REALLY?'

"Shut up!" He collapsed to the floor. "Shut up shut up shut up!"

'What makes everyone hate you so much? Is it your face?' "stop…" 'Did you kill someone?' "-please…." 'Why did your mother throw you out like trash?'

Erik touched the mask clinging to the bad side of his face. He knew he was crying, but couldn't seem to stop, even though it was a weakness. "she…" He searched for what he would possibly be able to say in her defense.

'Who are you?'

"Why won't you go away?"

'Who are you?'

"I'm Erik…"

'Use your anger, Erik. They need to see-'

"please go away."

'-how much you're hurting.'

Erik felt the voice slip back into the dark pools of his mind, but its impact was still weighed upon him. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, but it hurt so badly. Maybe they could help take the voice away.

He curled up on his bed and hugged his toy monkey, which he hadn't done in almost four years; since the last time his past was being brought into question.

One thing was for sure. No matter what, he was going to find out who he was and why everyone feared him.

At some point, he fell into a fitful sleep filled with music and a skeleton man dressed in red.


	8. Resolving

Erik stuck to his normal routine; eating breakfast, playing the piano until Christine was ready, then leaving for the Opera house. But now, he refused to speak to her.

She seemed a bit confused at first, then resigned to let him do as he wished. It wasn't the reaction Erik had expected, but he really didn't care what she did as long as she wasn't looking at him like he would bite.

Her attitude seemed to affect most people around him. After all, what kind of mother doesn't speak or make eye contact with her own adopted son? There was instant gossip about what had happened, even though all the conclusions were false. Despite the lack of information to uphold such accusations, they spread like wildfire through the whole building.

The chorus director hardly acknowledged his presence and left him to sit on his stool and watch as he did everything. The ballet rats sometimes pointed and whispered harsh words that could barely be heard. The managers were the only ones who seemed unaffected, since they hardly made contact with Erik in the first place.

It was deeply unsettling, but Erik didn't want to face the inevitable. He'd have to speak with her eventually. And by then she'd probably stop acting so skittish.

'It'll only get worse.'

Erik frowned and stared at one of the backdrops off to the side. That was another thing that had gotten worse. That damned voice in his head. 'Go away, Voice.'

'Eventually your face will become too much and she'll send you away.'

'Father and Madame Giry wouldn't allow it.' Erik rolled his eyes and focused on the music behind him. There was a flute that was going flat.

"All right everyone, that's it for today. Vincent, please work on your solo. And don't forget about dress rehearsal tomorrow!"

Erik hopped down from his seat and stretched. Yet another uneventful day at the opera. He sighed sullenly and headed to the front doorway to wait for his mother.

"Ah, there you are, Erik." Andre and Firmin hurriedly walked over to the boy.

Erik turned to face them. "Bonjour monsieur's." He gave a slight bow.

They smiled, but they were hesitant enough to approach him that Erik knew they had heard the rumors. But that was expected since it was their opera house.

Firmin brandished a small box he'd hidden behind his back and handed it to Erik. "it's a bit early, but we will be unable to attend your birthday this year."

Erik stared at the present with a frown, but quickly smiled before looking back up. "Thank you. I'm sorry to hear you wont be coming. My father would have loved your company."

"How old will you be? Thirteen?" Andre asked.

Erik nodded. He could tell they weren't comfortable talking to him; they never seemed to be- so he bowed quickly and thanked them again for the gift. They exchanged fake smiles and goodbyes before they left.

It was sad, really, how much this opera house relied on gossip. It didn't matter who it hurt, especially not someone like Erik. His party would probably suffer, but it really was his own fault and he realized that. He was willing to accept his mistake.

Once she was done talking with Meg, Christine went to find Erik and silently led him out to the carriage. As per usual they sat in silence and counted the minutes till they got home.

Erik looked up at her, then down at his lap and took a deep breath. "..mom..?" Despite the fact that the De Chagneys had adopted him and he called her mom in his head, he couldn't get used to saying it out loud.

Christine looked at him and blinked like a startled deer.

"I… I want to apologize for yelling at you." He mumbled. "I don't blame you for your reaction."

"Oh, Erik." She threw her arms around him and tugged him close, making him tumble out of his seat and onto her lap. Her tight grip made him feel claustrophobic so he focused on how she stroked his hair calmingly. "I was acting foolishly. I should have never done that."

He stayed silent, letting her cry over him. Her tears soaked through his shirt.

They stayed like that until they got home, which wasn't long thankfully. Erik didn't know how much longer he could stand to be strangled like that. He hurriedly went inside and headed to his piano. He needed something to liven up his day.

The next day, everyone seemed disappointed that things had been worked out. Not that Erik cared. He wasn't here for their enjoyment.

"Madame Giry?" Erik tapped her thin, bony arm.

The woman turned and looked down at him. "Erik, it is not polite to tap." She gave him a frown. "What did you need?"

Erik ducked his head and sighed. "My birthday is tomorrow, but…" He looked up. "I don't believe I will be having a party. You do not have to attend."

"I do not go to your birthday celebration because I feel obligated. I go because I care for you." She knelt down to his level. "But if you don't want me there, I will not go."

"No! I would love for you to come! Its just that no one else will be, and I didn't want you to be bored or anything. What fun could an adult have at a childs party?"

"Erik." She gave a rare laugh and brushed back his hair from in front of his mask. "You are definitely not an ordinary child. I am never bored around you."

Erik smiled, remembering why he was good friends with her. She was such a kind woman. "thank you, madame."

"If you feel you don't want a party, then do not feel like you have to have one."

He nodded a bit sadly. "I don't like people much anyway."

Madame Giry nodded as well, just as sadly. He didn't know how much she understood how he felt. He didn't know how much of his life she still remembered.

Erik bowed and turned to leave. Once he was out of her sight he ran down the hallway and up to box five where he curled up in his seat and drank up the quiet warmth. Lately, he'd been feeling rather alone and unneeded. Nothing felt better than coming up here and forgetting about everything.

He didn't want to tell her how much he really wanted that party. It was one of the few times he could look out at all the people he could call friends. To be able to see and know that he was important enough to so many people that they would celebrate the fact that he was alive. With a sigh, he curled up tighter and shut his eyes, embracing the darkness and wishing it would swallow him whole. Oh how he wanted to live in complete solitude and forget about people and their many needs.


	9. Ending

Its odd how people expect to have a good birthday. Its just another day and Erik knew that, but still.

Today sucked.

Erik huffed and curled tighter into the dark velvet around him, closing himself in and away from the rest of his surroundings. He only cut himself off from everything when he was deeply upset.

He didn't want to complain, but nothing was going as it should! He'd spent all morning alone and had just recently found out that Madame Giry was ill and wouldn't be attending the party that he wasn't really having anyway. He suspected his mother would try to throw him something despite how he'd insisted he didn't need a party.

The opera house was boring already. Now that he had all day to wait for something to change, it seemed to drag on forever. He wished, yet again, that he could just spend all day in box five.

"Erik." Erik froze, then pushed himself farther against the wall. The curtains swallowed him effectively, but being hidden didn't really help when the person already knew where you'd be. "The break is almost over. We should get back to practice."

"Go on without me, Meg." He yelled and hugged his legs to his chest. "I'm in no mood to sit through choir practice."

He heard the door swing open and a few angry footsteps march to where he was hiding. "Get up, Erik."

"No." He grumbled, then jumped when the curtains were torn aside. Meg gave him a harsh glare and pointed to the door. Erik sighed and stood, making his way out with the young Giry hot on his trail.

"You're a teenager now. You shouldn't act so childish. And stop slouching like that."

Erik moaned to himself. He was glad he had at least a few people who didn't look at him like a freak, but sometimes he wished she'd just scream and run and get it over with.

"Okay." He spun around as soon as they were back on the stage. "You have fulfilled your duty, as you can see, and now there is no more reason for you to follow me. Go and be on your merry way back to your side of the room." He gestured to where all the other ballet rats were gathered.

Meg looked over to the dancers, then back at Erik with a pout. "You don't have to be so abrupt." She turned with a flare, then left.

Erik stuck out his tongue before going to his lonely little stool to wait out the rest of the day.

"Everyone, everyone. Please get into your positions. We're going to start from the beginning of Eterno." Gabriel tapped his conducting wand against his podium. Everyone shuffled to their sections, then opened their books to begin.

"_Dalla riva rocciosa che vediamo noi stessi in lutto per la perdita il passato non abbiamo più ricordi-_"

Erik chewed his bottom lip. They were singing it all wrong. He had never before spoken out during practice; he only commented when Gabriel asked him to. But dammit! They were doing so horribly today! It was the tenors. They were flat and making everyone else go slightly flat as well.

"Um…sir?" Erik murmured. Unfortunately, he couldn't be heard over the roar of an ill-tuned choir. "Sir." He tried again slightly louder.

At this point Gabriel seemed to be ignoring him. He was old, but he had excellent hearing and had even looked at him through the corner of his eye. Eriks face heated slightly.

'He doesn't want my help. He's just going to let them continue to sound bad.' He frowned. 'Not as long as_ I'm_ the assistant choir director.'

"Stop!" Everyone jumped at the loud voice that seemed to come from everywhere. After a moment of slight confusion, everyone looked over to Erik. He gave them a hard glare to hide his rising insecurity from all the eyes focused on him. "You all sound terrible!"

Gabriel took hold of his shoulder. "Erik, this is not-"

"You-" Erik pointed to a large man in the back. "You're flat and making everyone around you suffer. Focus on what you're singing." He pivoted to look over at the altos. "And all of you need to sing louder. Its forte! The sopranos need a strong base."

"Erik!" Gabriel rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably. "You are not in charge of this choir. Get back to your seat."

"But-"

"Now." His face grew darker, making Erik quickly decide to obey. Once he was seated again, Gabriel had them start over. They all grumbled and started whispering things Erik didn't hear. There was only one phrase that caught his attention.

"…the phantom all over again…"

Suddenly, Erik saw a flash of something from his minds eye. Fire. Warm and harsh and everywhere! It was on the stage. People were screaming and one woman's wails overpowered the rest.

"Piangi, my love! No!"

Everyone was running and in the center of the flames was the remains of a large chandelier.

Erik shook his head and tried to calm his suddenly startled heart. He could hardly breathe; the smoke and ash in the air had seemed much too vivid. Yet another daydream that he couldn't decipher.

No one seemed to notice that Erik had drifted out of reality, which he was thankful for. The choir continued singing, the dancers continued dancing, and the maids continued gossiping while they dusted the many seats of the theater. Erik felt a bit out of place in all of this. He felt like hiding. He felt like… watching everything from a vantage point where no one would notice.

'that's crazy.' He chided himself. 'You belong right here on this stool, learning by watching Gabriel work.'

But it didn't seem too crazy. Not as crazy as everything else had been ever since he woke up in that underground room. Perhaps his older self had a whole catacomb of above-ground passageways that even Madame Giry didn't know about.

"Alright, that's it for today everyone. Costume rehearsal is tomorrow." Gabriel turned to look at Erik. "Don't ever try that again. You're not in charge of my choir. Your place-" He growled harshly, making Erik cringe. "is sitting there, silently!"

Erik nodded, though he had no intention of remaining quiet. As long as he had a voice he would work to improve this rather average chorus.

Gabriel nodded hotly and began making his way backstage. His anger seemed… fearful. Of course, everyone acted oddly around him and Gabriel was no exception, but he had seemed genuinely afraid that he was trying to take over. He had never given the man any reason to think such a thing, but there was no denying the fact that he'd have to watch what he said when around him.

As usual, he waited at the entrance for his mother to appear. A few choir members passed by and gave him devilish smirks. He shivered and sunk into the shadows, willing his mother to come faster.

"Are you alright, Erik?" Christine took his hand, though he quickly yanked it out of her grip and pouted.

"I'm a young adult now, mother." He tried to sound assured and insulted at her gesture, but it came out as more of a flustered whine.

She smiled and nodded. "You are. You've grown so much." She stroked his hair back slightly. "Shall we return home?"

"Gladly." He walked past her and led the way to the carriage.

Erik sat uncomfortably, staring down at his hands. "You said I was your voice coach, yes?"

"yes." Christine replied and stopped looking out the small window to give him her full attention.

"Did I ever work with Gabriel previously? When I was older?"

"No." She answered almost too quickly. "Why?"

Erik closed his eyes, remembering how she reacted the last time he'd brought his past into question. "I remarked on the choirs performance and he was very adamant that I not do it again. I fear I may have been of some competition to him."

She almost laughed, but quickly refrained. "You were a wonderful teacher. Probably the best there ever was. He does not want to be second best again. Don't feel too bad about it. He's feeling inadequate."

"Oh." Erik seemed to brighten at this. It wasn't all bad and it perfectly explained the mans fears. But there was still something missing. "Who was the phantom?"

Christine froze and didn't answer. Instead, she looked out the window once again.

"Mother…" Erik pressed on. "Was… was I the phantom? The one everyone keeps talking about?" He tried to lean over to see her face. "Is that why you wont talk about it?"

"This isn't something we should be discussing on your birthday." She shook her head.

"Consider it one of my gifts." He said wryly. "I just want to know why people look at me like I'm going to kill them."

"Trust me." Christine gave him a sad look. "I have told you little for your own safety. It does not matter what you once were. Its what you are now that makes all he difference."

"Is it an improvement?" Erik tilted his head, still trying to see her expression clearly.

She nodded. "I don't want you to become him again."

Erik slumped back into his seat unhappily. "Did you hate me?"

"No!" She quickly looked over to him and grabbed one of his hands. "Erik, please. Don't ask me to explain everything because I can't. It's complicated and painful. Everyone has their faults, but you've overcome them and I don't want to see you fall back into them."

Erik gave her a curt nod of understanding, but he didn't entirely accept that answer. He would always wonder what he had been, whether it be wonderful teacher or murderous monster.

They arrived a few moments later in front of the de Chagney mansion. Erik hopped out and extended his hand to assist Christine out of the carriage, though it was more of a practice gesture than of actual help since he was still too short.

Upon entering, Erik noticed that all the drapes were drawn and a path of candles were lit, leading upstairs. Being the ultimately curious little boy that he was, Erik quickly bounded up each step to follow where they led.

They curved along the hallway for a while, then stopped in front of the library door. Erik gave it a scrutinizing look-over before quickly pushing the door open and finding himself flooded with light.

"Happy Birthday, Erik!" He opened his eyes to find the usually quiet and dull room to be filled with boxes and people who were all giving him expectant smiles. He beamed, though part of him was slightly angered that Christine had prepared this against his wishes. Raoul held out a flat box which Erik quickly took and went over to the couch to begin opening. Once the paper was effectively destroyed and cast aside, he lifted the lid and pulled out a black jacket. He inspected the material, rubbing it against his fingers and tracing the intricate stitched linings, then smiled his approval and thanked him.

There were many gifts, including expensive quills, a few books, and a rather exquisite and fancy violin. Erik was grateful for it, but knew he'd never play it. After all, he knew how to make his own.

After he opened his gifts, he greeted all his guests properly as he knew a gentlemen should. Madame Giry had attended and explained that Christine had her pretend to be sick so as not to arise any suspicion of a party. Meg was also there, along with one of the other dancers whom Erik had quickly befriended because of her quiet nature.

A few of Raouls associates were there as well and spent most of the time talking amongst themselves, which didn't bother Erik at all.

"Your father has told us about your musical abilities." Said one of the men (who had been the one to buy the violin). He gestured to the piano. "Why don't you play something for us?"

Erik wanted to correct him for his invalid assumption that Raoul was his 'father', but was too happy to do so. He nodded with a broad smile and quickly sat on the bench before playing one of his personal favorite songs. Everyone seemed to enjoy it as well and caused a great deal of discussion for the rest of the party.

"A true prodigy you have." Another man commented and elbowed Raouls side with a chuckle. "I trust you are having him use it to its full potential."

Raoul gave his own laugh, though it seemed a bit distant. "He is the assistant choir director at the Opera Populaire." All the men nodded in approval.

"Such promising talent will assuredly get him far." The first man commented, giving Erik a smile. Erik returned the gesture sheepishly.

Once everyone had had their fill of cake and wine, they each began to leave, bidding Erik a fond farewell and happy birthday. After about an hour, everyone was gone and the maids began gathering the ripped paper and discarded boxes.

Erik now sat in his room, studying the books he'd been given. He knew they'd only last him about a week, but they were still very promising. Madame Giry seemed to know exactly what he would enjoy reading.

He fell back against his bed happily. Today had been quite wonderful, even if his morning had turned out poorly.

'And none of those men even looked at my mask.' He couldn't help but feel gratuitous at the small notice. It meant so much to finally be around people who wouldn't gawk or comment or run away.

'Maybe…' Erik thought as he curled onto his side and closed his eyes. 'I don't need to remember who I was. I like this me just fine.'

With a final sigh of contentment, Erik slipped into a memory-free dream.


	10. Grieving

To the religious, death can be a happy time. It s a reminder that life is precious and dear and we should cherish those close to us. We should be happy that they've moved on and are in a better place.

This wasn't the case with Erik.

The man stood alone in front of the lot, staring down at the hole that would hold his dear friend for the rest of eternity. He had learned a long time ago how to control his emotions, but he was still having trouble holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Erik." Meg came to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She's in a better place."

Ugh. As if he hadn't heard that a million times already. Erik wasn't a particularly religious man. He had no use of a higher being and didn't believe he should worship anyone for doing something like this.

His dearest friend; his precious Antoinette- was gone.

Meg frowned at the headstone already set in place. It was a cheap slab of marble with a simple rectangle shape. Erik wished he could have given her the best money could buy, but it wasn't up to him. It had been Megs decision and she refused any attempts at funding for a better one.

After staring at the stone for a while, Erik shrugged Megs hand off and slipped from the shadows of the tall oak, making his way over to the carriage waiting for him.

Even though it was still a shock, Erik knew it was better this way. Not because she was in a 'better place', but it was definitely her time. She was old and bedridden.

_Erik leaned over so he wouldn't have to speak louder. "You look as radiant as ever."_

_Giry gave a breathy laugh, placing her hand over his. "You flatter me." She fell into a fit of coughs, which made Erik tense. "I'm fine, Erik. You're not getting any younger either."_

_Erik shook his head sadly. "What am I to do without you?"_

_"You're going to live your life the way you are." She gave him a stern look. "I've instructed Meg to keep an eye on you."_

_A grimace flashed across his features before he could stop it, making Antoinette smile again. "You're so different now. I can't get over how much you've changed."_

_He knew what she meant, but he also knew she wouldn't go any further in explaining it. He was nearly twenty-three now and he still knew very little about his past. "I'll visit you every day."_

_"Promise me something."_

_Erik leaned closer. "Anything."_

_Giry nodded slowly and closed her eyes. "Don't do something crazy when I pass on."_

_For a moment Erik thought she was kidding, then remembered that she didn't like jokes at all. "Yes. I promise."_

Erik almost hated himself for that promise, but he was a man of his word. His father had taught him to always honor any promise he made or it would come back and bite him. Though he now wished he could end his own life to be rid of it all.

The mansion was quiet and felt hollow. He made his way up the stairs to the library, hoping to be alone. Once he rounded the corner and stepped inside, he saw that Raoul was sitting on his favorite chair, facing him. The man stood. "Erik."

"I'm fine." He replied before Raoul even got a chance to ask him if he was alright. He didn't want to hear it. He just wanted to be alone and he couldn't even have that.

Raoul walked over and wrapped his arms around him without saying another word. They didn't need to speak and Erik was glad he understood that.

After what seemed like hours Erik returned the gesture and hugged him back. This would be one of the few times he accepted any physical touch, especially from his father, but he needed the comfort.

"I'm going back tomorrow." Erik stated as he stepped away.

Raoul gave him a shocked and confused look. "You shouldn't be going anywhere for a while-"

"I need to get my mind off of it." He ran a hand through his jet black hair. "Music is the best way to do that."

"Just don't overwork yourself."

Erik nodded in understanding, but didn't know if he would be able to honor the request. He was tired of promises.

He went back out into the hallway, thinking that perhaps he could sleep off the rest of the day and deal with tomorrow when it got here.

Unfortunately, morning wasn't kind to Erik. He was sluggish from a fitful sleep and he had a headache from all the stress of yesterday still lingering like a bad hangover. He vaguely wondered what on earth had possessed him to think of going to work today, but that only brought all the memories flooding back, knocking him back to square one.

Christine stood by the door, smiling warmly, though her eyes were bloodshot and sad. "Have a good day." She croaked.

"To you as well, mother." He gave her a quick kiss on each cheek and leaned back to look at her once again. Even when she was crying she was still pretty.

"What?" She asked, giving him a cautious smile.

Erik gave her a warm laugh and brushed back a bit of her hair. "You're beautiful." He murmured before hastily making his way to his carriage, hoping that would brighten her day a bit.

Christine paled at his words and watched in shock as he left. Seeing him like this; older and so much more gentleman like than when he was a boy- made her reminisce of the old Erik she knew. They weren't all happy memories, but it made her feel butterflies when he looked at her like that.

Erik smirked as he leaned back in the carriage. Over the years he'd gathered that his older self was quite fond (if not unhealthily so) of Christine. He didn't feel that way, since she was his mother and much older than him, but it was fun to toy with her and make her blush.

But as soon as he stepped out of the carriage, he was drowning in the emotions he had momentarily been able to forget.

Everyone stopped and glanced at him wherever he went, as if he shouldn't be here. That was absurd, though he understood why they would think that way. His best friend had died less than forty-eight hours ago and he should be grieving.

He didn't feel like grieving and they would soon realize that.

"Into position." Erik instructed as soon as he was onstage. "Now."

They all stood around and gave him a surprised look as if he had a gun pointed to them. After a bit of his yelling they got the message and formed their rows.

Erik stood in front of them and glared. "We'll go through all the songs, starting with Diavori." They groaned and began singing. Erik smirked to himself, knowing that they'd hoped to have a day off.

He was a strict teacher. Ever since Gabriel had died, Erik had been in charge of the choir and from day one they knew not to get on his bad side. Many had quit due to the stress and high expectations Erik had set. The managers hadn't said anything about it, but he could see it in their eyes; they wanted him gone.

Raoul, as Erik had also learned, had paid the managers to keep their mouths shut, which they did excellently. Sometimes Erik marveled at how much they had in common when dealing with people.

The singers of the opera house improved exponentially thanks to Eriks teachings and many famous singers from other countries wanted to be taught by this 'angel of music'. He was weary every time he met someone new, especially when they seemed frightened of the mask, but his skill had gotten him past the point of having to fear for his safety. The circus was long forgotten and he was finally a functioning member of high society.

"Monsieur de Chagney." Erik pivoted to the sound of the managers behind him.

"Bonjour, monsieur's. Can I help you?"

Firmin almost looked angry. "Why aren't you at home?"

"I see no point in wallowing in self pity." He crossed his arms, giving them a glare. "Do you not want me here?"

"Oh no no no! That isn't what he meant at all." Andre rest his hand on his shoulder. "We are concerned for you is all. You're our most prized vocal instructor."

Erik frowned at the hand on his shoulder. It felt too familiar to Megs. "While I am thankful for your concern, I really am fine and would like to continue with practice."

The managers exchanged a look. Andre pressed on. "Its only one day."

"Your place is in an office-" Erik poked the mans chest harshly. "not the arts!"

Red. Flashes of gold and white; sparkling dresses and odd clowns mixed together. Everyone was staring up at him fearfully, especially a woman in pink. Christine.

The room was ringing with anticipated silence and everyone jumped when a leather book was thrown at his feet. _Don Juan Triumphant._

Erik shook his head and took his hand back. "Forgive me. Perhaps you are right. One day could not hurt." He turned and trudged off the stage without giving them a proper goodbye.

Without thinking about where he was going, he started walking as if in a daze. He didn't really care where it would take him, he just wanted to be away from everyone. Of course, out of habit, his feet had brought him to box five. He almost gave a sad laugh at how familiar this was to him.

Once he was in the dark little room, he curled up against the curtains in the corner and cried.

'How am I supposed to do anything without you?' He thought sadly, letting the curtains drape around him.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

There was a knock on the door. Erik sat up slightly, resting a hand on his mask to make sure it was on correctly.

"Yes?" He choked groggily, trying to rub the fatigue off of him.

"Its Meg."

Erik pinched his brow in confusion. What was Meg doing at his home? He looked around for a minute. Oh. He'd fallen asleep in box five. What time was it?

"Can I come in?"

Erik cleared his throat and stood, dusting off his clothes before he opened the door. "What do you need?"

Meg gave him a flat glare. "You look dreadful."

"Thank you." He returned the look. "But that doesn't answer the question."

"It's three hours past practice and your carriage is still here." She crossed her arms. "Go home."

"Perhaps I would rather stay here." He gave the woman a smirk, despite how awful he felt. "Why do you care anyway?"

"She told me to keep an eye on you." She stated, making Eriks smile disappear. He nodded slowly and made his way out. "Erik." She took his arm, making him stop so she could give him a hug from behind. "She wouldn't have wanted you to grieve."

"I know." He sighed. "Though I don't know how to keep from it."

Meg loosened her grip. "Write her a song." She prompted.

Erik suddenly straightened. That was…perfect. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"You, my dear Meg, are a wonderful woman."

She let go of him and smiled. "I'm quite aware."

As soon as Erik got home, he went to the lounge and pulled out a few empty music sheets, placing them on the piano's stand. This would take a while, but he wouldn't stop until it was finished.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

"Erik." Christine kneeled by the piano. "It's been five days. Please. You need to eat."

He continued to jot down notes as if he hadn't heard her. "I'm almost done."

"But-"

"shh." He hissed, continuing to write down the music. "Its almost finished."

Christine huffed, but sat patiently anyway. After a few more minutes, Erik gave a triumphant grin. "Its done."

"What is?" She leaned over to read it. "_Antoinette. _This is for Madame Giry?"

He nodded, gathering the music. "Meg gave me the idea. it's a dedication to her."

"That's…wonderful." Christine frowned. "But don't you think you should sleep or-"

"Not until you hear it." Erik was practically bouncing with anticipation. "Sit! I will play it for you."

Christine opened her mouth to protest, then shook her head and went to the couch. "Alright. Play it."

Erik nodded and let his hands hover over the keys before immediately starting. It wasn't as sad as Christine had expected, which she was glad for. In fact, if she closed her eyes, it sounded like the perfect song for a ballerina. It drifted and leapt with wonderful tune and grace. She smiled to herself as she let herself imagine a dancer moving to the music.

The melody slowed and began to grow darker, losing its happy charm completely. The notes got lower and lower, making Christine almost feel like she was sinking with them, down into the dark unknown of Eriks mind.

But before it completely suffocated her, the notes drifted up again, catching up with the lost beat they once had and eventually Christines imaginary dancer began leaping happily again.

All too soon, it stopped.

"What did you think?"

Christine slowly opened her eyes and looked over to him. She sat there, letting her mind catch up with the fact that the music was gone.

"…It was magical."

Erik smiled happily, making Christine smile as well. She stood and kissed his forehead. "I think she would have liked it."

"Yes." Erik mumbled, rubbing his good eye and giving a long yawn.

Christine took his hand. "I think its time for you to rest." Erik only nodded his agreement and went to his room, drifting off before his head even hit the pillow.

Oh my gosh! This story turned so dark! But this is (most likely) the LAST chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who responded! I'll be making more POTO stories, so keep an eye out for them.

Unfortunately we will be losing the internet soon, so it may be a while before there are any new stories, but I hope you enjoyed this.

FYI: Erik is now 22, Meg, Raoul and Christine are about 40, the managers are about 50 or so, and Giry would have been, like, in her late 60's!


	11. Loving

24 was not a good age to Erik. It was an awkward age for him, especially since every other 24 year old he knew was already engaged. It most definitely wasn't his fault he hadn't found the perfect girl yet. In fact, Erik was quite convinced such a girl didn't exist. All the Opera girls gave him disgusted glares when he stepped too close. How could any of them learn to love him?

He dived into his work more than ever, which worried his parents. He was already anti-social, but now he was completely shutting everyone out. He didn't want to get hurt (again), so he refused to let any females near him. A part of his mind registered that he had once loved someone deeply enough to give up everything. The rest of his mind scoffed at the idea. He was too proud of his lifes work to allow some simple woman distract him.

At least, that's what he thought before he met Natalie. She bumped into him backstage one day, muttering some nonsense about having not seen him, though he was right in front of her in his imposing black cloak.

Erik thought nothing of it. She was just another dancer with no admirable features. She was skinny, small chested, and had a mass of stringy light orange hair. Surely he would never see her again.

The next day, they almost collided again at the large entrance to the building as she was leaving and he was entering

"Can you not see, woman?" He bellowed, using an imposing voice he remembered from his other life, then pushed past her and stormed into the entrance hall.

While she may not have been much to look at, Erik realized that day where her true value lay. She had a fiery temper as wild as her hair. As soon as his hand was off her shoulder, she whipped around to face him and yelled "Show some respect for a lady! Honestly, were you raised in a barn?"

Erik had been stunned. What kind of 'lady' spoke to a man of higher class like that? He was about to retort, but she had disappeared out the door and down the steps into the busy streets. At that moment, Erik realized he would be seeing a lot more of Natalie, whether he liked it or not.

His mother had actually had the audacity to laugh when he told her what happened. She beamed with some secret knowledge, telling him to be nice and not let it wind him up so badly. Raoul, on the other hand, had told him she probably would leave him alone now that she was angry with him. Erik nodded and quickly muttered "I hope so", though part of him kind of wanted to see her again.

He didn't have to wait long. A couple days later, while he was packing up his music sheets, he saw her across the stage, pulling off her shoes and putting them into her bag. He sighed, but knew that he had to be a gentleman about this. He stood in front of her, shifting uncomfortably. This odd uneasiness was completely new to him. Usually, he had no problem talking to other people. Maybe it was because she was new and would stare at his mask.

But when she looked up, she didn't study his mask. She stared him in the eye with a scowl. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I came to apologize for my atrocious behavior." He drawled, hoping he could pull off being aloof and uncaring. From the look on her face, it wasn't helping. "Perhaps I could make it up to you…"

"Dinner. Tomorrow after practice." She shouldered her dancing equipment bag and walked away. "Make it somewhere nice."

Erik gaped at the girl as she strutted off the stage as if she owned the place. This was HIS opera house! Who did she think she was? He silently fumed to himself as he made his way off stage as well, quickly getting in his carriage and heading home.

The next afternoon was just as unpleasant, yet Erik didn't really want it to end. He took Natalie to a new restaurant across town, listening to her small comments before they slipped back into a comfortable silence. She was wearing a beautiful green dress that Erik couldn't take his eyes off of and her hair was tamed into a thick braid. Overall, it was completely different from the fiery demon he'd imagined her to be.

In no time, they were discussing the play, then the new dance instructor, which brought a pang of suppressed hurt to attention, which he quickly squashed. Antoinette would have liked her replacement. Erik had bullied the managers into hiring Margaret because of her strict ruling.

They finally settled on talking about America. It was odd and Erik had never talked about foreign countries with anyone before, but they both knew a lot about them. At the moment, America was becoming quite popular and interested them both greatly.

"We should do this again sometime." Natalie commented as she stepped out of the carriage. Erik quickly agreed in his head, but gave a very loose "alright" before leaving. The whole way home, he couldn't help the big grin that spread painfully across his face.

They spent a lot of their free time together, admiring eachothers talents and interests. They were amazingly similar, which surprised Erik. What really surprised him was that he was never asked about his mask. Even after four months of dating, she never brought it up or gave it a prolonged glance. It made his heart flutter with hope, but it was not meant to last.

They were walking down a popular shopping street, their breath coming out in puffs as they talked happily about how they preferred fall to summer because of the colors. Suddenly, a man came barreling down the street with another man yelling after him.

"Thief! THIEF!" He shouted, catching everyones attention. Erik quickly caught the man's jacket as he ran past, slamming him into a wall and waiting for the other man to catch up.

"Let me go!" The thug struggled, flailing wildly, trying to dislodge his hold. He managed to twist around and slam a fist into his jaw, hitting his mask and making it fall to the ground. The man gasped and stilled when he caught a look at the deformed, molten face inches from his own.

There was no way Natalie had not seen. He was afraid to look over and see her expression. The criminal was quickly taken away by nearby police men, leaving Erik to scoop his mask off the ground and put it back on.

They stared at eachother uneasily, looking as scared as the other. Natalie took a step forward, hesitantly reaching up to touch the ceramic mask. She was pale and shaking, but she didn't run. At least there was a bit of hope.

"Erik?" She took hold of his chin, trying to make him look at her. After a while, he looked up and dropped his gaze again. She gave him a forced smile. "I'm sure you know that it's frightening to see, but I'll get used to it."

She was right. Every time they went on a date, she made him take it off in the carriage. She would spend the entire ride studying it, reaching up to touch it. The first few times, Erik flinched away, which got a "hold still, you big baby" from her. He eventually got used to her touch and constant manhandling attitude, which he grew to adore. He wasn't ready to admit it out loud, but he was starting to fall in love with this odd red head. She wasn't a normal woman, certainly nothing like he would have gone for, but she was entertaining.

Mid October, while they were walking along the ridge of the Opera house roof, Erik proposed.

Introducing her to his parents was about as embarrassing as he'd imagined. Christine squealed happily and began talking about what he was like as a child, which both girls seemed to enjoy doing for some reason. Raoul gave him a mock-sympathy pat on the shoulder as they made their way to the dining room. Once they were seated, Raoul asked Natalie about herself and what she enjoyed. Both Christine and Raoul were surprised at how much she liked and how they were so similar to Eriks interests.

When she left, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, making him blush like a 12 year old, rather than a 24 year old man. This also seemed to amuse his parents, which they continued to joke about long after Natalie had left.

The next year they were married. The wedding was at a lovely church on a hill, just outside of town. Meg attended, giving him a sisterly hug before they left for their honeymoon. No one else knew, not even Natalie, that Erik had set up a special place deep beneath the opera house with a large swan bed and many, many candles. It was as magical as he remembered from what felt like a lifetime ago and gave him flashes of memory, which were quickly forgotten when he gazed at Natalie in the candlelight. Never before had he seen a more beautiful woman and she was his.

Forever.

You would not believe how guilty i felt after the outrage at the last ending. I thought this might make you guys happier.


End file.
